


Words Unsent

by kyaticlikestea



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Feels, John POV, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, text fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyaticlikestea/pseuds/kyaticlikestea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John writes texts to Sherlock over a period of three years after his death. If only he could bring himself to send them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Unsent

Mrs Hudson keeps telling me to look on the bright side, that at least the walls are safe from gunfire now. If she tells me to look on the bright side one more sodding time, the old army rifle will make a comeback. – JW _(saved to drafts)_

Your brother keeps coming round. I think he’s checking up on me. Doesn’t want me to go the same way, I suppose. He just sits there, though. Doesn’t say much. Think it’s more likely to send me over the edge than cheer me up. – JW _(saved to drafts)_

I don’t know if it means anything to you, but there are whispers around the Yard of someone called ‘Moran’. Don’t know who he is, but they’re looking for him in connection to one of Moriarty’s larger operations. Not that they think it’s Moriarty’s any more, of course. – JW _(saved to drafts)_

Bit of a sad day today, truth be told. Molly quit. Says she just fancies a change of scenery, but she looked sad when she thought I wasn’t looking. It’s not your fault. – JW _(saved to drafts)_

tihs is al yuuor falt – JW _(saved to drafts)_

There are flowers on your grave. I don’t know who they’re from. Secret admirer? - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Anderson is still an idiot. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

I miss y - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Walking back from the clinic today and I see a bit of graffiti at the back of St Bart’s. Just says ‘I believe in Sherlock Holmes’. I’m not the only one, then. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

You could come back. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

It’s Harry’s birthday today. We went out for lunch. She had tapwater. I had a pint. She looked at me the way I used to look at her. I don’t know what you’d have made of it. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

I - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Sally is pregnant! Anderson’s wife is not best pleased. Talk of the Yard, I’m telling you. Wish you were here. Greg doesn’t find it as funny as I do. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

whyy cna’t you come baakc - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Happy birthday. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Your brother came by again today. It’s been a while. We talked. It was good. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Why do they show Christmas films in November? - JW _(saved to drafts)_

One year. Took the day off work. They didn’t much like it but they’ll have to get over it. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Mrs Hudson is ill. Don’t know how serious it is. They think it’s pneumonia. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

tiihs isnt fairr - JW _(saved to drafts)_

I mi - JW _(saved to drafts)_

The skull misses you, you know. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Your brother doesn’t come by any more. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

It’s my birthday. Where’s my card? - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Harry’s moved in. Couldn’t keep paying the rent by myself. Don’t worry, she’s in my room. I moved into yours. It still smells a bit like you. It’s weird. Harry just says it smells like old books and dust and something she can’t pin down but I think that was you all over, really. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Mrs Hudson hasn’t come out of hospital yet. She’s asking for you. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

It’s good to have Harry here. We went out for lunch today. We both had tapwater. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Mycroft visited again. I think it’ll be the last time, to be honest. He said goodbye like he meant it. You never did that. You owe me. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

I miss - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Mrs Hudson is gone. This is shit. This is really, really shit. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Two years. Couldn’t get the day off work this time. I’m sorry. I’ll visit you tomorrow. Promise. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Harry and Clara are back together. Sally’s daughter is called Jane. Molly’s a columnist for a lifestyle magazine. Anderson is still stupid. People still believe in Sherlock Holmes. Nothing else to report. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Went to visit your grave today. Someone had vandalised it. Won’t tell you what they wrote because frankly I don’t want to see the words again, but don’t worry. I’m getting it sorted. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Harry is moving out. I wish I could, but you’re still stopping me. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Went for a pint with Greg last night. He’s a complete lightweight, that man. Anyway, you’ll never guess what; he’s only bloody dating your brother! Something about being united in grief. Been going on for over a year, apparently! You’d have deduced it immediately, of course. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

People are moving on without me and it’s not fair. Just bloody come back, won’t you? It’s not funny anymore. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

Three years. And people still believe in Sherlock Holmes. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

I miss you. - JW _(saved to drafts)_

 

**Author's Note:**

> This work was partially inspired by 'The Unspoken Words Between Us' by LadyLilyMalfoy, a Mystrade fic which you can (and should) read here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/24321


End file.
